A Reminder
by purplediamond7
Summary: Just a story of Will's tragic meeting with his father. Rated for some violence, obviously, but nothing drastic. Nothing you didn't see on screen! Edited to include a Willabeth fantasy on Will's part!


**A Reminder**

Declaimer: Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true... Somewhere over the rainbow, I would own PotC. Most unfortunately, this is not somewhere over the rainbow.

A/N: I edited this story a lot, because when I first wrote it, I was sleepy, and wasn't really thinking about what I was writing... So here it is! Sorry, had to edit it again because this one thing when I repeated myself was haunting my nightmares for days, so finally I went and changed it. It's just one sentence changed, so big deal... not! Anyways, enjoy!

"Secure the mast tackle, Mr. Turner!" cried the boatswain. Will, hearing his name in dull surprise, ran up. Another man, one of Davy Jones' cursed villains, ran up as well.

"Step down, boy!" he cried to Will.

Will didn't move and looked up at the man's face. He was less revolting than many of the crewmen of the _Flying Dutchman_, but what made Will stare was the man's face. For a second, Will only realized that the features looked familiar. The man next to him gasped, looking into Will's face and let go of the rope holding the cannon. Will was thrown off his feet and realized suddenly that the features he was reminded of were his own. He didn't know if the jolt he felt was from the surprise or landing on his back on the deck with a thud, all the air knocked out of him.

"Haul that weevil to his feet!" the boatswain yelled. Will, illogically, decided that he rather resented being called a weevil. He tried to scramble to his feet, but two of the crewmembers pulled him roughly to his feet instead. He decided that he must have imagined the resemblance.

"Five lashes to remind you to stay on 'em--" the boatswain snarled as two crewmembers dragged Will toward the mast. He was disgusted by the purposefulness when his wrists were bound to the ropes next to the mast. Will felt that all this was distinctly unfair. All this wasn't his fault. Will thought that if Jack had been in his place he would have talked his way out of this in seconds. For the first time in his life, Will wished he had Jack's gift of twisting words. He turned his head just in time to see someone grab the boatswain's wrist.

"Impending me in my duties?" the boatswain leered. "You'll share the punishment."

"I'll take it all," the man retorted. Another shock of surprise. Will was bewildered. What was going on? Who was he?

Davy Jones stumped out on deck. Will's heart sank, if possible, lower than before. The cruel captain wouldn't be any help.

"And what would cause such an act of charity?" Jones demanded.

"My son--he's my son,"

Will felt as if someone had hit him over the head with the news. So this was his father. He turned in horror. His father was looking at him intently. _The spittin' image of Bootstrap Bill Turner,_ Will recalled the words immediately, as well as _I swear, you look just like him,_ from Jack. Will could see the resemblance. Davy Jones, meanwhile, looked from Bootstrap Bill to Will and back again.

"What fortuitous circumstances be this? Five lashes be owed, I believe it was," he exclaimed, and held the whip out to Bootstrap.

"No," Bootstrap gasped, staggering back in horror. "No,"

This was too much. Will decided that this must be some kind of nightmare. It simply could not be real. What kind of twisted story was this? About to be flogged for a mistake and meeting his father on a cursed ship, then finding out that _his father_ would be the one to whip him was inconceivable. Will was sure that any second now he would be waking happily up in Port Royal on the day of his not-yet ruined wedding and amusing Elizabeth later in the day with the account of his dream.

He envisioned standing before the altar with Elizabeth. He would look back over his shoulder. The church in which they would be in would be filled with people waiting to see them married. Elizabeth's father would look on happily and there, in a shadowed corner, would sit Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack would give Will a crooked, golden-toothed grin.

Will imagined turning back to Elizabeth and the altar. His bride would be wearing a silvery dress, her face covered by a delicate veil. She would be would be wearing a necklace of pearls and seem fairly radiant, even if she would look a trifle pale. Will and Elizabeth would say saying their fateful 'I do's and he would slip a golden band on Elizabeth's thin finger. Will could almost feel the pride and happiness he might have felt if this was really happening. Elizabeth would grip his hand and he would lower his head to kiss her. Their lips would meet and they would kiss happily. The whole church would explode in applause. As he would be leading Elizabeth down the aile would say,

'Darling, you'll never believe the dream I had last night,'

'What was it?' Elizabeth would ask.

'I dreamt that someone called Cutler Beckett turned up and ruined our wedding, then I had to rescue you by getting Jack's compass, remember, the one that doesn't point north, and trade it for your freedom. I found Jack on an island with cannibals and then he sold me onto a ship called the _Flying Dutchman_, captained by Davy Jones and I met my father there. And then I woke up,' he would tell her.

Elizabeth would laugh and Jack's laughter would sound behind them.

'So, ye're married at last,' Jack would say. 'And I must say, yer dream was ridiculous,' and they would all laugh and he and Elizabeth would spend the rest of the day and night blissfully happy, as well as the rest of their days and nights.

But alas, this was not to be.

Davy Jones, meanwhile, was saying, "Your issue will feel it's sting, be it by your hand, or the boson's."

"No," Bootstrap gasped again.

"Boson!" Jones called.

"No!" Bootstrap grabbed the whip and turned to Will. _Now I'll wake up_, Will thought. He didn't. The two crewmembers holding him forced his head forward and ripped his shirt open. Will heard the whip whistle as it came down, and then felt a blinding pain on his back. It was now obvious that he was not asleep, but really and horribly awake. He just wasn't sure if the whip was splitting the skin of his back open or his heart. A scream rose in his throat, but he clenched his teeth against it. The whip fell again and Will arched his back in agony. The muscles in his chest and arms contracted with pain. He could feel blood running down his back. His disbelief quickly turned to anger. He had never felt such confused emotions. Anger mixed with numb surprise, as well as the remnants of incredulity. Three more lashes fell on Will's back, but still he didn't scream. Each time an anguished cry struggled to pass his lips, but he bit it back. The last one didn't seem to hurt as much as the lashes that came before it, probably because he was dreadfully angry. He was in too much pain to see reason. Will didn't think that his father wanted to spare him more pain. He just had the horrible knowledge that it was his father behind him, striking him so brutally.

The crewmembers holding Will pushed him savagely down below deck. Of course, there was salt water there. Will was so surprised with the pain, that he didn't even cry out.

"You had it easy, boy!" someone laughed above him. Bootstrap stretched a hand out to him.

"I don't need your help!" Will exclaimed furiously, pushing himself up from the floor and jerking his shirt over his bleeding back. The cuts throbbed agonizingly. It was even harder not to cry out now than before, the pain was completely unbearable. Will also felt immensely humiliated. He had been flogged before the whole crew. He hadn't given them the satisfaction of screaming, but they had seen his pain.

"The boson prides himself on cleaving flesh from the bone, with every swing," Bootstrap informed his son.

"So am I to understand that what you did back there was an act of compassion?" Will demanded.

"Yes," Bootstrap said softly.

Will felt his anger drain out of him. No longer blinded by pain, he understood what his father had done. Will started feeling pity for his father, not only himself.

The cuts on his back stung. Will realized that his back would be scarred from now on. It would be a reminder.

A/N: Please review! I'll give you figurative ice cream!


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